


Star Wars: An Empire Asunder

by mavericklaw



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Gray Jedi Code, Imperial Civil War, Intrigue, Jedi and Sith, Legends, New Ideas, Philosophy of the Force, Post-Endor, Rise of the New Republic, The Force, War and Peace, balance of the force, dark side of the force, light side of the force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavericklaw/pseuds/mavericklaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of the Empire's fall, Imperial warlords tear at each other's throats in a desperate, bloody game of succession for the Empire. As the flames of anarchy tear the galaxy apart, and the New Republic struggling to instil a new galactic order, an ambitious Force wielder seeks to build a new Empire to ensure balance to the Force, while a young Imperial lieutenant will find himself changed in the anarchic upheavals of a post-Empire era. An alternate universe story set in, but not bound to, the Legends continuum, filled with new characters, familiar faces, and a retelling of the post-Endor galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

 

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, an empire falls.

In the wake of the second **DEATH STAR** 's destruction and the death of **EMPEROR PALPATINE**  and his champion, **DARTH VADER** , the mighty **GALACTIC EMPIRE**  that once ruled the galaxy begins to fragment as the audacious **REBELLION**  continues its victorious campaign against Imperial forces across the  **GALAXY**. As scores of Imperial loyalists unconditionally surrender to the fledgling **NEW REPUBLIC** , many high-ranking  **IMPERIAL OFFICERS** , unwilling to submit to the victors, seized the chance to proclaim themselves leader of the scattered  **IMPERIAL REMNANTS** , hoping to reunite the fragmented Empire and destroy the Republic once and for all.

However, these remnants squabbled among themselves, its leaders seeking to dominate his or her rivals and claim the throne of leadership for themselves. Many a **WARLORD**  have died in the ensuing conflicts that raged, while the victors have gained in strength, consolidating their hold with their mighty **STAR DESTROYER** fleets and their battalions of **STORMTROOPERS** , eagerly anticipating tomorrow's conflict. Though the Empire has crumbled, its **LEGACY** lives on in a menagerie of figures, all feared and reviled, as the many warlords sought to engrave their name in the annals of history. They fought, they bickered, they bargained, and they schemed, all consumed in their thirst for advancing their power to greater heights.

The **IMPERIAL CIVIL WAR**  rages on, with no end in sight...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the Empire beaten after Endor and its forces in disarray, powerful individuals who once served the Emperor now serve themselves, bolstered by their personal armies and armadas that they had "inherited" following the Emperor's demise. Palpatine's leadership was the unifying factor that bound them all together, out of fear or respect or both, and with him gone, it was only a matter of time before the order that his rule instituted came crumbling, and the Imperial warlords fought each other AND the Rebellion/New Republic (including the transitory Alliance of Free Planets before the Republic's founding) in their bid to preserve their holdings and aggressively expand their influence.
> 
> The story extrapolates on this power struggle by introducing a variety of new characters, one of which having great ambitions for rebuilding the Empire - though his reasons for doing so may surprise readers. It will incorporate elements from numerous Expanded Universe sources to flesh out a whole new plotline.


	2. Endor

The screams pierced his ears.

"Incoming!" someone yelled as the screech of artillery descended from the heavens, ending in a massive thump of an explosion that sent bodies and dirt hurtling into the air. More shells thundered into the ground, tossing Imperial troops haphazardly as blasts left splitting cracks in the earth. Smoke billowed from the flames that littered the scarred earth, littered with corpses and dismembered body parts. The acrid stench of death and chaos permeated the air, stinging the nostrils, leaving the exposed overcome with despair. Laser fire darted back and forth, and in the chaos another indistinct voice screamed fearfully.

"The Rebels are coming! The _Rebels are coming!_ "

Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak could barely hold himself together as the ranks of Imperial stormtroopers and light infantry faltered against the laser bolts whizzing towards them. He could see them now, bravely putting up a resistant wall of fire amidst the rubble and the carnage, blasters at the ready. They were firing wildly at the approaching Rebel forces, desperate to stem the tide. A smoking heap of an AT-ST stretched out lazily close by, its body tattooed with scorch marks and gaping holes where the smoke poured forth. More stormtroopers kept running to hold the line, and the Lieutenant barely realized that he had tripped over something, crashing down weakly onto the muddied earth. It then dawned on him as he struggled to regain his footing: he had tripped over a dead stormtrooper, sprawled in the gravel, face buried in the mud, a fresh hole in his helmet's right side.

Deren tried to crawl away, but he felt his strength slipping away from him. The concussion he suffered not two minutes ago left him all dazed, confused, lost. Death surrounded him, and death was still encroaching on him.

Beyond the thrumming pain echoing inside his skull like a brass bell, he felt afraid. That primal fear of being so very close, and yet so far, from death's door. Was this the end? Would this mark the final resting place of Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak, one of the finest officers to have graduated from the Caridan Imperial Academy? Would only an unmarked grave be what was left of him?

There was nothing that he learned at the Academy that could prepare him for the leviathan that was war. No one told him about the screams that ceased to stop. Nor did they warn of how quickly death could claim you with a single shot from a blaster rifle. Nor did they mention anything about the horrible stench of anguish and pain and death that permeated the air you breathed.

War _truly_ is hell...

He tried to say something, to shout something, something to bolster their slowly deteriorating morale, but he only managed to croak unintelligible nonsense from his parched lips. The Imperials were losing ground, even as more and more troops ran forward to meet the enemy head on. His arms felt weak, his legs like jelly, and he felt as if he would faint at any moment. He remembered there was a blaster rifle in his grip, an E-11 standard issue, but it felt like he was carrying an anvil. He let it drop silently, embedding itself in the soft dirt beneath his feet, like a vibrosword left by some ancient warrior in the corpse of his foe.

Amidst the death throes of the injured, the dying, someone was sounding the retreat. Or at least it sounded that way. Somehow, Deren managed to pull himself up, just as another artillery shell struck a few meters away from where he stood. He almost careened into the air, but luckily only collapsed to his knees. He could barely feel his knees scraping against the muddy earth, but he immediately registered the arms that suddenly grabbed him, and instinctively he tried to flail at whoever it was that held him and began pulling him away.

"Sir, I'm getting you out of here," the stormtrooper uttered, unperturbed by Deren's weakened gestures of aggression. Deren realized his mistake and tried to mouth an apology and thank-you at the same time, but gibberish and saliva merely poured out of his mouth.

In the blurriness of his vision, he saw the Imperial forces standing firm against the encroaching enemy, their fellow comrades desperately trying to save the wounded. Artillery fire seemed to have ceased, or so he thought, but the rebels kept advancing forward, the upper hand clearly theirs. More stormtroopers fell to blaster fire, while many others hastily pulled back. He could see the rebel line approaching, blurry as it is, but how close they were to the Imperial forces, he couldn't tell.

There was more shouting, but more of the panicked kind. The stormtrooper dragging him along put him down next to a field medic, and he could tell the stormtrooper was saying something to the other person. The trooper then nodded at Deren before running back to the faltering frontline, hoping to buy time... for what, really? It was evident that they were fighting a losing conflict. The Death Star had fallen, Palpatine was dead, and Vader too perhaps.

The Empire was doomed.

"...on, sir, we're gonna get you out of here." Was that the medic? Or was he just dreaming? Everything is so... hazy.

He felt himself lifted off the ground, but he wasn't too sure if that were true. The sounds of battle were beginning to fade, and his ears were ringing, the intensity of it seemingly growing louder and louder with every passing moment.

In the end, it didn't seem to matter anymore, because the world went pitch black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What exactly happened on Endor's moon after the Death Star II's destruction? Did all the Imperial forces surrender immediately? Did some of them fight to the last man? Did some of them manage to flee from the moon before the Rebels overwhelmed them? We can only guess.


	3. Chapter 3

"Lieutenant?"

Deren Wolstrak blinked, suddenly realizing that his thoughts had wandered back to the nightmare that was Endor. Almost immediately he felt the eyes of his superior officer on him, silently judging him.

"...sir?" he weakly responded, the ghosts of Endor still fresh on his mind.

Admiral Gendon Sarheeno, his expression unreadable, sighed as he regarded the young officer standing beside him, his brow furrowing in disapproval. "I trust that you won't let this... _laxity_ of yours to continue clouding your awareness."

"Sorry, sir, it... it won't happen again."

"See to it that it _doesn't_ , Lieutenant," the Admiral mused, turning his attention back to the holomap projected before him.

The bridge of the _Storm Walker_ had a certain reverential silence to it, despite the soft hums and chirps of the computers surrounding the room, as well as the inaudible whispers of other Imperial personnel operating the controls. Deren stood close behind the grey-haired Admiral, keenly observing the map and its red-colored denotations of New Republic holdings throughout the galaxy. Here and there, a few other colors separated the red territories, denoting the remnants of the Galactic Empire, fractured as it is after the Emperor’s death and their inglorious defeat at Endor.

The echoes of the past crept back into Deren’s subconscious, but he blocked their passage quickly, not wanting to risk testing the Admiral’s patience once again.

It was still hard to believe the Empire was broken. Though the Grand Vizier himself has taken up the mantle of leadership of the Empire, acting as its steward until a new Emperor can be crowned, a number of powerful figures in the Empire have instead opted to go their own separate ways from the Empire, building up small empires of their own. They professed their unquestioning loyalty to the Empire, but it wasn’t too hard to see that they were better off without the Empire. They had far more power than they ever thought possible while servants of the Empire. They would not so easily relinquish their new found status.

Kaine, Harssk, the Teradoc brothers, Delvardus, Zsinj – these were but a few names who made it big post-Endor. They held a sizable force while still with the Empire, and with Palpatine’s death, they were quick to use their assets on their own quests of expansionism, claiming the systems they were charged with defending, or where they were based, as their own, while rapidly absorbing nearby systems into their realms. And even as they did so, they looked at one another with great distrust and even hatred – a far cry from the days when they once worked together for a common goal. But such is Imperial politics: no one is your friend.

Many self-styled Imperial warlords also began to crop up with the successes of the more notorious ones, though many were eventually crushed by their rivals or reabsorbed into the Empire proper. And here, in the bridge of the Imperial I star destroyer, the _Storm Walker_ , flanked by the Victory-class star destroyers _Redemption_ and _Contemptor_ , Deren found himself in the service of one such ‘rogue’ element.

“Admiral,” one of the deck officers chimed in, breaking the silence. “Lord Cain’s starfighter has just exited hyperspace.”

The Admiral nodded. “Very good. I will meet with him at once; carry on.” He spun on his heel, beckoning Deren to follow with a finger as he strode out of the bridge. Deren kept up with his pace, falling in behind his superior officer as they made their way to the hangar bay.

He had heard little about Darth Cain, supposedly the supreme commander of this meagre force of Imperials. It didn’t surprise Deren that a Sith Lord would lead them, as he – like Darth Vader himself – serve the Emperor directly, and were, by extension, the Emperor’s right hand men. Little else has been mentioned about him, save that his absence was due to his mission to seek out a number of rogue Imperial leaders to try and have them join his forces. The full extent of his mission was never discussed.

Deren knew that he was privy to a lot of classified material now that he was the Admiral’s new aide. He never did find out what had happened to his late predecessor Brentis, nor was he keen on asking. When they had drafted him into their force, he was merely ordered to take over Brentis’ vacant position effective immediately. Little else was discussed, save his duties and responsibilities.

What intrigued Deren further was that he answered not only to Admiral Sarheeno, but to Lord Cain as well. Of course, this shouldn't come to a surprise, given how the Empire had many Sith lords who presided command over the Imperial army. But the way the Admiral described it gave Deren a sense of the tasks he was set to accomplish in his capacity.

“This has been a longstanding arrangement,” the Admiral remarked when Deren had asked. “My duties primarily revolve managing the fleet and our assets, as well as advise Lord Cain pertaining our assignments, while Lord Cain ultimately decides on what our next course of action is. In that capacity, we require a number of adminstrative assistants, so to speak, to help us with a host of responsibilities. This ranges from minor administration duties, record-keeping, and logistics planning; to relaying information to key staff aboard this ship, or the _Redemption_ or her sister ship. You will be filled on your roles in further detail.”

To Deren, it seemed like nothing more than being a glorified personal assistant to his superiors. But he kept the thought to himself.

The two soon arrived at the Storm Walker’s hangar bay, where Lord Cain’s sleek starfighter – possibly a war trophy, or a gift from the Emperor himself – had just landed. Again, it struck Deren as odd that Cain did not possess a TIE Advanced v1 or one of Darth Vader’s x1 prototypes, instead preferring his own starfighter over the Imperial ones. It possessed a unique design, Deren noted, that he had never seen before, with sharp, forward swept wings, a very thin profile (leading him to believe that the starfighter had stealth capabilities), and a seeming lack of weaponry (integrated into its hull?). A lone figure was stepping out of the ship’s cockpit, and it was obvious that it was none other than Lord Cain himself.

He was an intimidating sight as he approached Deren and the Admiral. He stood at almost six-and-a-half feet tall, with a gaunt yet confident-looking face, a well-built frame enclosed in a light Imperial-esque combat suit, and a proud and frightening demeanour that somehow emanated from him, possibly due to his status as a Sith lord. No one really knew what species Cain was, and some of the officers speculated that he was from one of the extensive Outer Rim territories that were not completely charted – or, chillingly, he is not at all from this galaxy.

His unique rebreather helped him stand out, his breaths almost reminiscent of Vader, though less imposing, but truly his pure-white eyes were his most defining features. Anyone who has met him could barely look him straight in the eyes; it was like looking into the empty vastness of the infinite cosmos, Deren recalled one's description of it: you just could not register the sheer expanse of _nothingness_ that you beheld. And yet, there was a force inside those eyes, and you could barely gaze into the power that lay behind the Sith's eyes.

It was just then that Deren realized that Cain was, in fact, gazing at him. Though he did not seem to have any obvious irises, Deren instinctively knew it. He _felt_ his eyes on him. Instinctively, Deren turned his gaze to the floor, realizing the truth in all the things others have said of him.

“My lord,” Admiral Sarheeno began as he curtly nodded to the Sith. “I trust that all is well?”

Cain nodded, eyes still affixed on the young lieutenant. “Little progress, I’m afraid,” he said wryly in a semi-mechanical voice, distorted by the rebreather, again a reminder of his Vader-like similarities. As he glanced over Deren, he then asked the Admiral, “Is this Brentis’ replacement, then?”

Sarheeno nodded, with a cough, pointing a hand towards Deren. "Yes, this is Lieutenant Deren Wolstrak, formerly an officer with the Seventh Battalion stationed on Endor's moon, the one we rescued in that abandoned shuttle some months back. He's taken over Brentis' place a month after your departure, now that he's recovered."

Deren smartly saluted, still unable to maintain steady eye contact. "I-it's an honor to serve, my lord."

Cain suddenly extended a hand, and Deren examined it with some confusion. He lowered his salute, and slowly took the Sith lord's hand. Cain gripped it firmly, and they shook hands; Deren thought this to be quite awkward.

Cain shook his head, chuckling. "Look at him, Sarheeno, he’s like you: all about decorum and respect for their superiors - and not to mention the wide-eyed confusion on meeting me for the first time."

"As is everyone else, Lord Cain, though I recall I was not very... _intimidated_ by your presence."

"So you say." Cain's tone was rather playful, though mocking.

Admiral Sarheeno grinned, startling Deren. "You know it to be true, Lord Cain, if memory still serves me well."

"It does, my friend. Only Forall and Kiedren don't take to me kindly." Cain's response was merry, jovial, and with his mention of the commanding officers of the  _Storm Walker_ 's accompanying ships, sarcastic. "They _despise_ me, this I know."

"In spite of that, their _fear_ of you overtakes their drive to mutiny."

"That's strange, Admiral; I always thought it was _you_ keeping them in line."

Deren looked at the two of them, lost. Cain turned back to the lieutenant, and gave a light, reassuring smack to his shoulder.

"You would do well to learn from the Admiral, Lieutenant. There's much you can gain from a decorated Imperial Navy officer such as Sarheeno, compared to the other blithering fools who think themselves better leaders."

The Admiral sighed, as if he'd heard this a thousand times. "You flatter me too much, my lord," he replied, somewhat sheepishly.

Deren blinked. He still had no idea what was transpiring.

“I do have news, though, my old friend,” Cain then abruptly said to the Admiral. _Old friend?_ “Though I think you would not like it.”

The Admiral rolled his eyes. “Zayd, I take it?”

Cain nodded, and as he began to walk, the Admiral smartly stepped in pace with him. “He will meet us in 18 hours’ time. He’s keen to see what we have to offer if he joins us.” Behind them, Deren kept up with them, trying his best to listen in to their conversation.

“You know that I would rather not have him aboard.” Sarheeno’s reply was cold, or so it would seem. Deren didn’t know what to make of their… friendship. Could Sith lords make friends? And even allow their ‘friends’ to be so blunt? Darth Vader would have choked the Admiral to death if he used that kind of tone.

Cain shrugged. “We have few allies, Sarheeno. We can’t afford to be picky.”

The Admiral sighed, nodding slowly. “I know, I know, but… to have a _pirate_ aboard. The very thought of him colluding with Forall and Kiedren is not something I’d like to see happen. I have no desire to let a mutiny spark if both of them, with Zayd in tow, start getting any ideas.”

“They’ve been talking again, I assume?”

“Merely unsubstantiated rumors from the crew, but Sergeant Clay assures me that they’re still playing along. Though I’m quite certain they’d rather not keep up this charade any longer.”

“They could always leave, and I can easily name a few officers as replacements. And I _know_ you’ll agree to my choices. Besides, there isn’t anything holding them back from joining any of the other warlords.”

The Admiral shook his head. “I think they would rather retire peacefully on some backwater world where they won’t be recognized as having served in the Imperial Navy. If I recall, Forall mentioned his family being of a farming background before moving to Coruscant.”

“The very idea of Forall as a farmer… that would be something to see. Provided that he and Kiedren actually _manage_ to disappear.”

Deren remained silent as he listened to them both chatter; it had soon drifted off to logistics discussions and their next stopover at Entralla, home of the Pentastar Alignment. Eventually, both men stopped as they finally reached Darth Cain’s quarters. Deren hadn’t realized that they were headed here.

“I’ll be here until it’s time for our meeting with Zayd,” Cain said, looking at both Deren and the Admiral. He then turned back to face the Lieutenant. “Make yourself useful, Lieutenant. There’s much that we need to do if we wish to give rise to a new Empire.”

“Yes, sir,” Deren merely replied, unsure of what he might say.

Cain patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, before he entered his chambers, the door sliding behind him.

Deren glanced uncertainly at the Admiral, who merely shrugged nonchalantly. “Welcome to the new Empire, Lieutenant,” was all he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original idea I had for Darth Cain years ago was that he was the typical power-hungry megalomaniac as villains were back in the day before audiences demanded for more complex characters and antagonists. In fact, much of his character had been heavily based on High Inquisitor Jerec himself (from the Star Wars game, 'Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight') - from his personality to his powers and beyond. In fact, one key plot point to Cain's development was his mastery of long-forgotten Sith powers collectively known as the Dark Arts (or something along those lines), which included powers such as Force Destruction and even Dark Rage. In time, my vision for Cain also changed, and now I portray him far more differently: he is no longer a power-hungry tyrant, and is more a calm, collected anti-hero of sorts, one fighting for what he believes in that is contrary to both Jedi and Sith philosophy. You'll learn more of him in time.


	4. Chapter 4

Lord Cain and Admiral Sarheeno stood at the helm, the vastness of space before them past the reinforced glass that separated them from the cold depths of darkness. Amidst the gleaming stars in the background, former Imperial Captain-turned-pirate Falhorn Zayd's  _Victory II_ star destroyer, the  _Dark Lance_ , floated lazily in the distance. The vague shapes of a Lambda shuttle and its TIE escort could be seen approaching, slowly but surely.

Behind them, Deren stood at ease, still nervous in the presence of the intimidating Lord Cain. The Admiral reassured him that Cain was not like his fellow Dark Lord, the ruthless Darth Vader, but Cain nevertheless had an aura about him that made him so unnerving. Perhaps because it was said that he's not from this galaxy...

"Has it ever occurred to you, Admiral," Cain spoke, breaking the sullen silence that filled the bridge, "that you could easily order gunnery to fire on the shuttle and kill Zayd in an instant?"

Sarheeno's brows furrowed, his eyes affixed on the approaching vessels. "Tempting as the opportunity may be, I wouldn't make that order."

"Even if you dislike him so? You did remark that you would rather not have a pirate aboard your ship."

"Duty to the Empire comes first, my Lord, above all other matters."

"You mean duty to _me_ , don't you, Admiral?"

Sarheeno smirked. "Don't play coy with me, my lord. Even if I wanted to, I still have to contend with the _Dark Lance_. It's not a risk I would want to take. Besides, Forall and Kiedren would not be too happy with that decision; they might just turn on us if I did attack Zayd. That would only put an end to our ambitions."

Cain nodded, and there was a moment of silence as they watched the shuttle lazily make its approach to the docking bay.

"Zayd may be a cutthroat," Cain added a while later, as he and Sarheeno turned around to greet their guest, "but with our current predicament, every bit of help we get will be essential to our cause."

Sarheeno nodded grimly. "Desperate measures for desperate times."

"Indeed."

The three men and their stormtrooper escorts strode into a lift, and it descended to the lower decks, where they would then proceed to the hangar bay to welcome their guest. Deren wondered how Lord Cain had succeeded in speaking to Zayd and winning him over - but then again, Cain was a darksider, a Sith; nothing could stop one such as he, right?

Except for a Jedi, like that Skywalker person. The one who bested both Vader  _and_ the Emperor. The one who ultimately brought the Empire crashing to its knees. Even if the Alliance had not destroyed Death Star II, the Empire would still have collapsed on itself by virtue of one man's triumph.

And here, these two individuals before him sought to rebuild all that was lost, with only a paltry force at their command. Was that even possible? Even the Rebellion needed a great deal of support and supplies - and not to mention time - for it to become what it was. Here, they were aiming to restore the New Order - but, as Admiral Sarheeno had mentioned, it would _not_ be like Palpatine's New Order. "There is much for you to  _un_ -learn, Lieutenant, if we are to succeed." That was what Sarheeno had told him yesterday after their brief meeting with Cain.

But it still perplexed the lieutenant. As much as the Empire had partook in numerous controversial campaigns throughout the galaxy (especially in their vindictive hunt for the Rebel Alliance), and its popularity was beheld with much fear under Palpatine's rule (which led to the birth of the Rebellion in the first place), it nevertheless maintained a prosperous peace under the dictates of the new Imperial Constitution, even if it did rule with an iron fist. Sacrifices had to be made, right? For the greater good?

He couldn't be sure. All his life, Deren lived in a house that firmly believed that what Palpatine did was right. Too long had the Old Republic let its members do as they wish, and this inadvertently contributed to the Republic's eventual failings to corruption and decadence; Palpatine's 'power grab' was a necessary evil to rid the dying Republic and renew it for the sake of the galaxy. Circumstance forced the Emperor to act, but even with the bad cards he was dealt with, he still played a winning hand.

His father loved that analogy.

They entered the hangar, and already Zayd's shuttle was beginning to touch down, engines thrumming loudly before they whined down to silence. Cain and Sarheeno were speaking in hushed tones now, and Deren did not plan to eavesdrop on whatever it was they were discussing.

The Lambda shuttle folded its wings upwards, its landing gear finally setting down on the hangar floor, settling in in its place. The ramp began to descend.

"It would be amusing if Zayd's men suddenly stormed out of the hold," Cain remarked out of the blue. "I can only wonder how far he'll get..."

Moments later,a tall, lanky officer, flanked by his own retinue of men, smartly strode over to Cain and Sarheeno, a wry smile etched on his well-sculpted Corellian look (Deren could only assume he was Corellian), uniform decked with a few medals; no doubt a display of arrogance than of heroism.

The man, Zayd, stopped short of the welcoming committee. He bowed slightly, his expression unchanging. "Lord Cain, Admiral," he acknowledged.

"Welcome aboard, Captain Zayd," Cain greeted him, extending his hand. Sarheeno remained quiet, his eyes warily observing the former Imperial officer.

Zayd regarded it for a brief moment before taking it. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarheeno and Deren's inclusion to the story was purely by chance. I had in my head, before writing this story, a vision of a trailer for the story, and I knew I needed two other supporting characters to go with Cain: one would be somewhat like an 'anchor' for the Dark One, reminding him of his aims and to keep him grounded (of sorts); the other would be groomed by Cain to be his protégé in future, despite not possessing any Force sensitivity. Note that the term I used is "protégé" and not "apprentice".
> 
> Zayd is one of many supporting characters that will be featured in the story, like Forall and Kiedren mentioned in the previous chapter, and they will have their own roles to play.


	5. Chapter 5

They sat in the  _Storm Walker_ 's war room, Zayd on one side, Cain and Sarheeno on the other, with Deren standing directly behind Cain, a datapad clutched in his hand. Zayd looked smugly comfortable seated in his chair, while Cain continued to exude calm confidence as he sat facing the Captain. They had just finished discussing a great deal of things, especially of Zayd's possible 'alliance' with Cain.

"I have no qualms in reaffirming my service to the Empire, Lord Cain," he said, taking his glass of water from the table, "but, if I may ask, what exactly do _you_ get out of all this?"

"What do you think?" Cain questioned in return.

Zayd shrugged, not hiding the distaste in the answer he was considering. "Unlimited power? Over an entire galaxy, I might add?"

Cain, surprisingly, laughed at the suggestion.

Zayd shrugged, arms outstretched in mock confusion. "I don't see why not. If you truly believe that you can do what every other warlord can't, then surely it's possible. Even with a small force as yours, anything goes."

"And you think I would do as I please to maintain order across the galaxy, just like the Emperor did?"

"The Emperor _clearly_ had his own designs with the Empire," Zayd continued, unperturbed. "He said that he would see an eternity of peace under Imperial rule, and yet he constantly pits his subjects against each other in a bid to win over only the most loyal of servants. In the midst of order, he inspired anarchy. Under the guise of peace, he instilled fear. And through it all, he ruled the galaxy unchallenged before the Rebellion appeared. Until then, no single planet dared to question his authority, let alone openly defy it. If that isn't a sign of an insane genius, I don't know what is."

"Fear is a double-edged sword," Sarheeno answered. "That is why the Empire ultimately collapsed and its power remains diminished."

Zayd grinned upon hearing the Admiral's words. "Ah, Admiral, ever the optimist. Let's not forget, though, that the Empire hasn't _truly_ collapsed. It's just that, well, enterprising individuals like myself merely saw an...  _opportunity_ that couldn't be passed up."

Sarheeno glared hard at Zayd, their mutual animosity clear as daylight in the way they interacted. "Unlike the other warlords, however, _you_ turned to piracy."

Zayd grinned sheepishly, raising his glass in the Admiral's direction. "I like your spunk, Admiral," came his reply, scathing in tone. Sarheeno's eyes narrowed as Zayd continued after a sip of his water. "Not all of us can be acclaimed warlords, Admiral. We can only be as enterprising as our resources permit it. You and Lord Cain are luckier than I, and for many others out there. Why, I had just gotten word that another, um, _splinter_  Imperial faction had been subdued in the Centares system. That might've been me, for all I know."

"At any rate," Sarheeno spoke, ignoring Zayd's remarks, "it's only a matter of time before Pestage realizes he's in trouble. The Rebellion has been earning constant support as the war progressed. Even the ISB couldn't deny that; COMPNOR's propaganda efforts were being undermined to the Rebels' benefit. And now, after so many campaigns against them, here we are, a small band of Imperial survivors, hiding from the newly formed Republic, a shadow of the Imperial might we once were."

Zayd was quick to reply: "Well, as I had mentioned just a few moments ago, there are still many warlords who've carved their own place in the galaxy. Even the Republic can't hope to take them all on."

Sarheeno grunted disapprovingly. "And you expect one of them to eventually 'ascend' the Imperial throne?"

" _Everybody_ wants to rule the galaxy," Zayd grinned as he responded, swirling the glass in his grip. "If anything, Zsinj or Kaine or even that damned bitch _Isard_ could take up the mantle if they wanted to. They are more than capable, even if you and I dislike them with a burning passion. Better them than that sniveling worm Pestage, if you ask me."

This time it was Sarheeno who smirked. "Ah, but  _especially_ Madam Director herself. She is, after all, a lot closer to the throne than the rest of us."

Zayd ignored Sarheeno's remark. Deren noted a brief flash of anger written on the captain's face, and wondered if Cain may have seen it too. No, that was obvious: nothing could elude Cain so easily. But Zayd's dislike for Isard wasn't  uncommon: a lot of people viewed her with great revulsion. She might be a woman, but she was as ruthless as her peers, and she was exceptionally brilliant. And she knew what she was doing to strengthen her position in the post-Palpatine galaxy. Everyone hates her because they knew all too well how she was far better than them.

No one would have expected her to come out of the Empire's 'fall' stronger than before.

"Even if we are all fugitives and war criminals in the eyes of the Republic," Zayd continued, swirling his glass' contents, "who wouldn't resist the call to rebuild the New Order? To achieve such an ambition is most  _compelling_ indeed."

"Compelling, you say?" Cain's tone was sarcastic.

Zayd shrugged nonchalantly. "Isn't that why we are here, Lord Cain? To start planning the rebirth of the Empire?"

Cain shook his head as he stood up from his seat. Zayd laughed, though Deren thought it was more of a cackle of sorts. But there was a noticeable tinge of anger in his laughter, of frustration at being played a fool by Cain. Did Zayd know of Cain's true identity, or did the captain merely think of Cain as another warlord seeking his own place on the vacant throne?

Deren wasn't too sure of Cain either. Sarheeno barely spoke of him while the Dark One (apparently, that was what he was known to many) was away; it still seemed odd that there was this strange mix of reverence and revulsion for this mysterious man that called himself the leader, and _yet_ did not strike one as a leader.

It didn't make sense to Deren, even as he thought about it. Palpatine radiated that discomforting aura of power, and that held the warlords together like glue.

Cain paced closer to Zayd as he was speaking, and Zayd began to look uncomfortable. "Ardus Kaine is content to carve himself a small Empire of his own in Oversector Outer, and leave everyone to their business of killing each other. In fact, I have heard the Alignment may be taking a more isolationist stance very soon. Zsinj is scheming for his opportunity to strike at his enemies, but is currently watching from the sidelines as the galaxy rips itself apart. Isard seeks to take the throne from Pestage, the Grand Vizier himself, and bides her time much like Zsinj, establishing contacts, making plans, the whole lot. The Teradocs are busy carving up a little piece of space for themselves, and it wouldn't be long before they have to contend with their rivals - and even each other."

Cain turned away from Zayd, turning his attention towards the viewport. "The truth is, Captain, the Empire  _is_ dead. It died with Palpatine, its vision unrealized. All that we have left are mere reminders of what was once the dominion of one man, one individual who ruled the galaxy with no quarter for anyone who dared impede on his grand ambitions. You knew of it as well as any Imperial citizen living under his shadow. What's left of that galaxy-spanning entity is fragmented, shattered beyond repair, and the galaxy is desperate to grab these fragments. There is really no point in resuscitating that which has already died. Out of the ashes we must give rise to the new."

Zayd's eyebrows furrowed. "Then we are no different from the rest. So what exactly makes us different from the rest of them?"

"Indeed, we all share a common goal. But  _we_ have a vision. _They_ merely have grandiose ambitions. And even if they do command a sizable force that would rival the New Republic, or if they possessed another Death Star or some other superweapon, it would still mean little. They can plan and scheme all they want, but in their gloating overconfidence, they will _fail_. They continue to view the Republic with such lowly contempt and their perceived _superiority_ above all else will be their undoing. We will not make that mistake."

"Thrawn, though, may be an exception," Sarheeno interjected, with some grudging respect.

Cain nodded, turning back to face the officers in the room. "Indeed. A foe to be reckoned with, Thrawn."

Zayd cleared his throat. "I hear he wasn't present at the Battle of Endor."

Sarheeno nodded. "It would appear he had been... reassigned elsewhere. Under orders of the Emperor himself, so I hear. But everything about him is hearsay, at best."

"Thrawn is a man we must be wary of, should he ever make a reappearance," Cain interjected. "In the meantime, though, the present is our focus. We must begin our endeavors immediately, for if we wish to establish our new Empire, now is the time to act."

Zayd shook his head, placing his glass down, a confused grin on his face. "I still don't understand the difference, Lord Cain. If anything, it would only seem that you are as... _delusional_ as the other warlords."

Cain returned to his seat, calm as ever. "I understand your grievances. But we will discuss that another time, Captain. At any rate, I have spoken my piece, and perhaps in time you will see my point. Now, are you with us?"

Zayd shrugged, comically it would seem, and his grin remained, disarmingly honest one would think. "Why else would I be here? So far, you've been the only one to approach me, and... honestly, I would very much like to see what's next."

Cain nodded, pleased with Zayd's answer. He raised his glass. "Then let us drink to the dawn of a  _new_ Empire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Sarheeno's flagship - the 'Storm Walker' - is an old but serviceable Imperial I-class star destroyer. Forall commands the 'Redeemer', a Victory-class star destroyer, while Kiedren controls the 'Contemptor', also a Victory-class star destroyer.
> 
> Here, we're getting an insight into Cain's ambitions and how it differs from the rest of the warlords. It isn't meant to evoke important answers on why such an Empire is needed (not just yet anyway), but it should be enticing enough that, despite having misgivings, Zayd views Cain as trustworthy enough to join the fledgling empire they seek to build. Plus, it would do Zayd much good in terms of the long-term benefits he can gain from a strategic alliance like this.


	6. Chapter 6

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Deren asked Sarheeno much later as they strode down the hallways of the  _Storm Walker_.

"Granted, but I know what you are going to tell me."

Deren blinked. "Sir?"

Sarheeno flashed him a displeased look. "You think we shouldn't trust Zayd, is that correct?"

The Lieutenant gulped nervously. "Y-yes sir."

Sarheeno nodded and came to a halt near the entrance to the bridge. "I share your misgivings, Lieutenant, but you know what Lord Cain has said about the Captain. And I trust his judgment. Zayd may think himself a snake, but he can't afford to slip up, not with Lord Cain and I keeping an eye on him."

"Can I assume that there is a spy aboard the  _Dark Lance_ , sir?"

Sarheeno grunted disapprovingly. "That's what Zayd would think," the Admiral replied. "But no, we don't have anyone aboard the  _Lance_. We need our agents elsewhere, gathering far more important intelligence than waste precious time on someone like him. Even Sergeant Clay assures me that Zayd won't require any... 'supervision'."

"Yes sir."

Sarheeno turned to the young officer, brows furrowed slightly. "Are you acquainted with Sergeant Clay yet, Lieutenant? He's in charge of Cain's personal Raven Watch, conducting all our espionage and intelligence efforts."

The Lieutenant shook his head. "No, sir, I'm afraid not."

Sarheeno nodded in understanding. "A good man, Sergeant Clay. You'll be meeting him soon, no doubt. In the meantime..."

Sarheeno beckoned for Deren to follow him as he strode down one of the paths leading away from the bridge. Deren kept apace as they passed a few officers, each of them addressing the Admiral with a mix of nods and salutes, all of which the Admiral responded in kind. Deren easily noticed the informality the officers portrayed, and found it most curious. If anything, it would seem that Sarheeno emulated the Dark One that he served so loyally. And Cain had addressed him as 'old friend'. Was that odd?

He remembered how his friend Turdan, who once served aboard the _Devastator_ while under Darth Vader's command, told him about the tense working relationship Vader had with most of the senior officers. Many of them loathed him, but they were too fearful to ever say that to Vader's face. Who would, really? The Sith were as temperamental as they were powerful. And Vader was known to kill those he viewed as incompetent. That was enough to keep lips tightly shut.

Which reminded him: did Turdan survive the collapse of the Empire? Where could he be? And what about the rest of his former classmates? Had many of them seen intense action? Had many of them lost their lives for the Empire's cause? He would never know now. The galaxy is in anarchy, and he's just... more or less stuck in the same position he always held.

But the Empire still 'lived', didn't it? He had completely forgotten that, up until the meeting with Zayd, the Grand Vizier Sate Pestage had taken over the late Emperor's reins, steward of the Imperial throne until a new Emperor would be installed. It would seem that the Empire still possessed some semblance of strength even after Palpatine's demise - but who was supposed to ascend the throne in Palpatine's place? Sure, there were rumblings that Palpatine would return some day, but that was just talk from a group of "religious" figures sanctioned by Pestage, supposedly to inspire the troops. There was no clue as to whether Palpatine had an heir to claim the throne, and many were sure that such an heir would never appear.

The Empire was fractured now, despite what Pestage might think. That was inevitable. Would it matter if a new Emperor was installed?

Sarheeno derailed Deren's train of thought as they continued walking to wherever they were heading. "Let me make this clear for you, Lieutenant, in case I haven't already: as aide to both myself and Lord Cain, you will be privy to a host of classified information that is on a _strict_ need-to-know basis for anyone who is not myself or Lord Cain. You are to discuss _nothing_ about what you have heard thus far in any of our discussions or conversations, and if anyone should ask _why_ , you will only state that the information is classified. Failure to comply will have you charged for crimes of treason and disseminating classified information, and you will be executed without trial, and your entire service record expunged. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." He didn't have to be reminded of his responsibilities. But these are dark times, and if what he heard about Brentis was true...

"Good. Be reminded that the Empire we serve is not Pestage's or any other warlord's. We are carving a new one from the little resources we have, and it will not be an easy journey. We are surrounded on all sides by enemies, and that includes our ally Grand Moff Ardus Kaine, even if he so easily portrays himself as one. You would do well to be wary of who you can trust."

"What about Captains Forall and Kiedren, sir?" Deren suddenly realized he shouldn't have asked that question.

Sarheeno shook his head. "They know better than to try anything. And you would do well to remember this, too."

"Yes, sir."

"We have a long way to go. And you'll need all the experience you can get if we are to accomplish our goals."

"I will do my best, sir."

They stopped before the doors of Lord Cain's personal chambers. It wasn't hard to tell, really; Deren already had a hunch that the Dark One wished to see him. There's probably a good reason for Cain to do so. But this isn't the Academy anymore. It didn't matter that he came out as one of the Academy's best and brightest. The commendation from the Director himself meant nothing to him now. He learned first hand the difference between a classroom and a battlefield. And the stench of death still stung his nostrils.

Endor refused to leave him at peace.

"I will be in the bridge," Sarheeno said, matter-of-factly, "should Lord Cain wish to speak to me. Once you are both done, you may return to your quarters until I request your presence."

"Thank you, sir." Deren saluted smartly.

The Admiral merely nodded, a small, stiff smile creasing his lips, and turned around, walking the same way they came.

Deren turned to face the door.  _I've got a bad feeling about this_...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to be able to flesh out Sarheeno and Deren's working relationship with one another. Sarheeno will prove to be a key person in Deren's life, especially in the later parts of the story.
> 
> Also, if you happen to have any suggestions on how I can improve the story, be it the writing style, the personality of the characters, etc., feel free to leave a comment.


	7. Chapter 7

Deren stepped into Lord Cain's chambers slowly, the doors shutting silently behind him. He could hear him in conversation with someone. As Deren stepped closer, he noted how bare the room was: besides the large holoprojector set in the middle of the room, there was only a spartan bed to the left; a medium-sized container by the bed's side which, Deren presumed, stored Cain's clothing and personal effects; a table a few paces away from the holoprojector, where Cain's elegant lightsaber rested on a maroon-hued display stand; and an astromech droid, inactive, snugly resting in a small alcove just big enough to fit its entire bulk.

Deren stood just behind the wall leading to the doors, peering out at Cain speaking to the hologram of... another Sith, maybe? Whoever it is, he looked imposing. His eyes were shrouded by... a thin strip of cloth? Or a unique set of visors or ocular enhancers? There were marks across the sides of his mouth, and he dressed very regally, with a long, flowing cape - and then Deren caught sight of the lightsaber hanging by the figure's belt.

"The Grand Moff has informed me of your impending return, Lord Cain," the figure spoke. "Sariss hopes that this time she will have the honour of sparring with you - a friendly competition to hone her skills."

"I look forward to it, Jerec," Cain replied. "I foresee that Sariss will become a truly skilled duelist in her own right."

Great InQuestor of Judgment Jerec himself! He had only heard rumours surrounding the person, but apparently he was one of the many Inquisitors that served Palpatine's sinister, Jedi-hunting Inquisitorius. For a long time, it had been a secret only known to the Empire's highest echelons.

"I'll pass on the compliment. Surely it would make her _bolder_ when she takes you head on."

"Or are you merely hoping that she fails because of overconfidence? Give yourself a reason to test her loyalty to you."

Jerec chuckled, an action that unsettled Deren somehow.

"Ah, Cain, Sariss  _is_ loyal. Never could I have asked for someone as talented as she. And though she might be... _enamored_  by you, she still remembers who it is that she truly serves."

Cain sighed. "I am not interested, Jerec. My task is of the utmost importance now. It's just as crucial as your hunt for the Valley of the Jedi is."

"Forging an Empire is no easy task, Cain," Jerec replied solemnly. "The only way you can succeed is if you can bring every other warlord to heel - and with your paltry force of _three_ warships, I doubt it will go any easier for you. Not everyone wishes to see someone else's Empire take shape without them."

"I know the risks, Jerec. I am willing to make sacrifices if needs be. I have already weathered so much before, and if I have to do it again, then I will."

Jerec grinned, and Deren felt a shiver run down his spine just looking at the former Inquisitor.

"We shall see, old friend. Once I find the Valley and tapped into its immense power, who knows what will transpire next? Perhaps  _I_ will be instrumental in your new Empire's birth. Anything can happen, after all."

Cain shrugged. "If the Force wills it..."

"And it will. I'll be seeing you, Cain."

The holoprojector switched off. The room slowly began to brighten as the lights turned up their brightness. Cain remained where he stood. "I normally do not tolerate people who eavesdrop, Lieutenant," he began, "but I'll make an exception for you - just this once."

Deren gulped, quickly stepped out to face Lord Cain, and saluted crisply. "Forgive me, my lord, I--"

"Yes, yes, you didn't mean to interrupt in a conversation. Although, next time, I suggest using the communicator. At least I'll know that my guest has arrived."

Cain calmly walked to the table, and rested on one of its three stools. He beckoned the Lieutenant to take a seat, and Deren, apprehensively, did so.

"So... you've served on Endor, Lieutenant," the Dark One spoke, gazing intently at Deren. "You were there when the Rebel Alliance attacked the second Death Star and shut down its shield generator, am I correct?"

Deren nodded. He felt uncomfortable at the mention of Endor; already, his ears could pick up echoes of the dying. A phantom pain, of sorts.

"It must not have been easy, to be surrounded by so much death in your... first combat operation. It _was_ your first, wasn't it?"

Deren gulped, the memories of Endor coming back to him. The screams...

"The Academy never... never prepared us for that."

"There is only so much that you can learn from an education. Some other things..." Cain sighed.

"Yes, my lord."

Cain waved a dismissive hand. "There is no need for formalities with me," he replied, somewhat cheerily. "You may call me Cain while we speak in private. And I will call you Deren in return. Can we agree upon that?"

Deren, again, was taken aback. Darth Vader would never have gone on a first name basis with his subordinates. Then again, the Dark Lord didn't have a first name to begin with. Cain, on the other hand, was willingly more... laid back. Was this a trick? Was Cain being genuine?

"I sense that you doubt my sincerity," Cain then whispered, catching Deren by surprise once again.

"N-no. No, not at all. Forgive me, my lord, I--"

Cain raised a hand, shook his head slowly.

"...I'm not accustomed to this with regards to my superior officers," the flustered Lieutenant finished. "They usually... have a, um, low opinion of the people they command."

"I'm sure. Every ranking officer wants to be known for _what_ they are, not  _who_ they are. Personally, I have a low opinion of officers who do not value each and every one of their men under their command, and that is why I like working with Sarheeno very much. Vader, however, is one begrudging exception to that rule."

"Did you know Lord Vader?"

"Oh, yes. He was very much a dangerous person. Powerful. Vicious. Relentless. Ruthless. Nothing stops Vader, not even the Rebels, and certainly not Imperial politics. He is loyal to the Emperor first, and then to the Empire. But he truly was the greatest of Dark Lords. Even I could not hope to compare with his greatness. Truly a shining beacon of Sith supremacy, if I may say so."

Deren nodded, in awe. Cain knew Vader himself, far better than any officer would dare to claim. It was in their mutual heritage as Sith.

"Then again, I was never very... fond of Lord Vader. I respected him, yes, and I'm sure he respected me as well, but to him, all other Sith are but rivals. In fact, he is loath to even consider me Sith; to him, myself and Jerec are simply Dark Jedi. He would be right, as I cannot hope to compare to him, but of course, people like Jerec would strongly disagree. Their ego always gets in the way."

"Is... there a difference?"

"Yes, actually. But I'll explain that some other time. Just know that Vader is a singular man where the Empire and the Emperor are concerned; he views himself higher in favor in the eyes of Palpatine, far higher than any of our peers. It's partly why Jerec always loathed Vader, and always longed to replace him as the Emperor's most beloved disciple."

"Is Jerec as powerful, then? I mean, considering that Lord Vader is now--"

"That is a difficult question to ask," Cain admitted, gently strumming his fingers on the table. "It is not because Jerec and I are friends; on the contrary, like Vader and I, we merely respect each other. I respect him for being a well-versed scholar and a formidable combatant. He respects me because he views me as a... different kind of him. Men like Jerec are always looking out for themselves first, and that makes him a fickle friend."

"But it seems like he trusts you."

"It's only a facade, young Deren. You will learn the intricacies of politics in due time, especially once we are under way with our Empire's inception." Cain now slapped his hand onto the table, peering back at the Lieutenant. "But we are not here to discuss about my life. I am more intrigued at how you've managed to pass your psychological evaluations when they decided to take you in."

Yet again... Cain was always full of surprises, and this one in particular. If he revealed this to the medical staff, it would very well spell the end of Deren's career.

But it wasn't that he intentionally hid his trauma. He followed protocol to the letter, answered each question as honestly as he could. They had a lie detector all set up, even, considering that he was rescued in an Imperial shuttle that was floating dead in space, and that they knew his ship and its (deceased) occupants had come from Endor; they obviously knew he could very well be a liability. Deren had even told one of the medical staff that he knew his odds were slim at best, and they would probably have dropped him off on some peaceful world to live out the rest of his days.

He recalled how the staff smiled and said nothing in reply. When the results came back some days later, he was surprised to find that he was listed as fit for active duty, and instructed to report to his commanding officer at his earliest convenience.

"I wish I knew, my lo... err, Cain. I told them everything; I was pretty sure I wouldn't have made it."

"And yet, you did."

"Somehow."

"What do you think, Deren?"

Deren coughed lightly. "I honestly don't know."

Cain patted Deren's shoulder, reassuringly. "Truth be told, my friend, I had instructed the staff to list you as fit for active duty. There were objections, naturally, but they complied to my request."

Stunned, Deren gazed at Cain. Did he 'persuade' them to do it? He shuddered inside, feeling guilty that he put the medical staff in such danger.

"You... you did?"

Cain nodded.

"But... _why?_ "

"I was sure that you would be able to serve. I do not think it was an accident that you were found by Sergeant Clay and his squad, drifting listlessly through the vacuum of space. In fact, everyone else aboard had died, and though you were so very close to death, somehow _you_ pulled through. Is that luck? Or is it more than mere luck?"

Deren could not even remember what had happened aboard the shuttle, or how they ended up drifting helplessly across the void of deep space. How long were they adrift? How long did the rest stay alive when the shuttle's engines failed?

"Most people would say it was a miracle or blind luck or whatever other opinion they might have. I, however, would like to think the Force was at work."

"The Force?"

"I don't have to explain it to you, do I? I know you're not a religious person, but I'm sure you know what the Force is all about."

Deren nodded. "More or less."

"I managed to obtain a copy of your records while training at the Caridan Academy. You were quite the illustrious student: smart, brave, a natural leader, respected by your peers, bitterly despised by your rivals - especially Mohilan Korstt, who, if you must know, was killed while serving aboard the Super Star Destroyer  _Executor_ \- a crack shot with a blaster, and a patriot in every right. A fine specimen for a budding Imperial officer. I could use officer material like you. It's a rarity to find competent young officers these days. Most of them are just drowning in dreams of glory just because they got in."

"I-I'm flattered, but... but I don't think..."

Cain raised his hand, and Deren stopped talking. "No need to try and explain anything, Deren. Just do your best, that's all I ask."

Deren remained silent, lost in thought.

"Get some rest, Lieutenant. I'll instruct the Admiral to make port at Entralla; we need to restock, and the men could use a little bit of downtime - that includes you."

"Yes, my lord."

Cain nodded, pleased, and both of them got to their feet. Deren saluted Cain, and turned to leave. Once the doors closed behind him, he exhaled sharply, gently massaging his temples;  _this was just day three of him serving Cain and Sarheeno_.

Unable to think any further, still dazed and confused by all that Cain had told him, he trudged back to his quarters and fell asleep almost immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just like Sarheeno, Cain will also prove to be an important tutor to Deren.


End file.
